something nice about you, you mention something about her you’d like to see her change, something you think is a negative. We’ll discuss it as a group, whether we agree or disagree.”
“This should be very interesting,” Liz said, crossing her arms.
“Let’s start with uh, Diana.”
“Well,” Diana said carefully, as Chris’s pale blue eyes searched hers anxiously, “I’d like to see Chris have greater tolerance for other people… more understanding about… life experiences that make people… different from her and what she knows.”
“I agree with that completely,” Madge said, inhaling deeply and passing a joint to Millie. “And very well said, too. Everyone lives by their own script, we should all work at understanding that.”
Millie inhaled and said, “People should have more faith and belief in other people.”
“Bullshit,” Liz said, waving away the offer of the joint and picking up her bourbon. “And I’m not just coming to the defense of my sister, either. For chrissake, you goddam bleeding hearts. Where does understanding leave off and judgment begin? You certainly could use a little judgment, Millie. You believe in other people and all they ever do is fuck you. Front and back, and especially in the ass.”
“Liz!” Chris protested.
“Some people aren’t worthy of trust,” Millie said with dignity. “Some people just take what they want and throw everything else away like a banana peel. That’s their sin, not mine.”
“You’re being intolerant,” Liz said smugly.
“You can be judgmental without condemning,” Diana said with irritation, “that’s all I meant. You have to make judgments about people all the time, but they shouldn’t be so rigid and your mind so closed that you can’t consider adjusting your opinions as you learn and grow.”
“That’s not adjusting, that’s compromising. Compromising your principles.”
“Hardly,” Diana said caustically.
“Times have changed so,” Chris said thickly, “it’s so hard to keep up. People talk about things —people do things we didn’t even whisper about when we were growing up.”
Madge said, “You’re just following your own bad script, Chris. You’re not able to break away from it even when you want to. You— and Liz.” She lit another joint.
“Bullshit.” Liz took another deep swallow from her drink. “You and your fucking scripts. I do what I damn please, not what some crackpot psychiatrist says I’m programmed to do. That’s garbage. That’s bullshit.”
“Liz,” Chris said, “please.” She continued in a pleading voice, “Madge—Liz and I couldn’t be more different. We were brought up so strictly, you know. Mother always said we should demand the best in our lives, not settle for anything less. She gave us high standards to live by. But Liz went one way and I went another.”
“You can interpret script instructions differently.” Madge pulled at her hair with tense, nicotine-stained fingers. “It’s still a script.”
Liz glared at Madge, who drew again on a joint passed from Millie. Diana asked Chris gently, “Is there some reason you didn’t marry? You’d have made a wonderful mother.”
“I love children,” Chris whispered. “There just was... never anyone quite right. There were lots of chances but nothing. that was quite the best. quite right.”
“The never-good-enough script,” Madge said, nodding. “Scripty behavior. Scripty language.”
“Fucking bullshit,” Liz snarled.
“Well, I think there’s something in what Diana says,” Chris said. “Maybe I have been too unbending. But it’s too late to really change things now.”
Lane had been sitting quietly, sipping wine. She said, “No it’s not, Chris. Not if you want to badly enough.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Liz said. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“I’m forty-three and Chris is forty-five. We don’t have a face and body like yours to put on display. If I had
“This should be very interesting,” Liz said, crossing her arms.
“Let’s start with uh, Diana.”
“Well,” Diana said carefully, as Chris’s pale blue eyes searched hers anxiously, “I’d like to see Chris have greater tolerance for other people… more understanding about… life experiences that make people… different from her and what she knows.”
“I agree with that completely,” Madge said, inhaling deeply and passing a joint to Millie. “And very well said, too. Everyone lives by their own script, we should all work at understanding that.”
Millie inhaled and said, “People should have more faith and belief in other people.”
“Bullshit,” Liz said, waving away the offer of the joint and picking up her bourbon. “And I’m not just coming to the defense of my sister, either. For chrissake, you goddam bleeding hearts. Where does understanding leave off and judgment begin? You certainly could use a little judgment, Millie. You believe in other people and all they ever do is fuck you. Front and back, and especially in the ass.”
“Liz!” Chris protested.
“Some people aren’t worthy of trust,” Millie said with dignity. “Some people just take what they want and throw everything else away like a banana peel. That’s their sin, not mine.”
“You’re being intolerant,” Liz said smugly.
“You can be judgmental without condemning,” Diana said with irritation, “that’s all I meant. You have to make judgments about people all the time, but they shouldn’t be so rigid and your mind so closed that you can’t consider adjusting your opinions as you learn and grow.”
“That’s not adjusting, that’s compromising. Compromising your principles.”
“Hardly,” Diana said caustically.
“Times have changed so,” Chris said thickly, “it’s so hard to keep up. People talk about things —people do things we didn’t even whisper about when we were growing up.”
Madge said, “You’re just following your own bad script, Chris. You’re not able to break away from it even when you want to. You— and Liz.” She lit another joint.
“Bullshit.” Liz took another deep swallow from her drink. “You and your fucking scripts. I do what I damn please, not what some crackpot psychiatrist says I’m programmed to do. That’s garbage. That’s bullshit.”
“Liz,” Chris said, “please.” She continued in a pleading voice, “Madge—Liz and I couldn’t be more different. We were brought up so strictly, you know. Mother always said we should demand the best in our lives, not settle for anything less. She gave us high standards to live by. But Liz went one way and I went another.”
“You can interpret script instructions differently.” Madge pulled at her hair with tense, nicotine-stained fingers. “It’s still a script.”
Liz glared at Madge, who drew again on a joint passed from Millie. Diana asked Chris gently, “Is there some reason you didn’t marry? You’d have made a wonderful mother.”
“I love children,” Chris whispered. “There just was... never anyone quite right. There were lots of chances but nothing. that was quite the best. quite right.”
“The never-good-enough script,” Madge said, nodding. “Scripty behavior. Scripty language.”
“Fucking bullshit,” Liz snarled.
“Well, I think there’s something in what Diana says,” Chris said. “Maybe I have been too unbending. But it’s too late to really change things now.”
Lane had been sitting quietly, sipping wine. She said, “No it’s not, Chris. Not if you want to badly enough.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Liz said. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“I’m forty-three and Chris is forty-five. We don’t have a face and body like yours to put on display. If I had
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